Molly adjusted the black wig, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Alright, Bill, we've got the layout, the security, and the perfect cover – what more could we need?" She glanced down at the invitations scattered across the kitchen table. Bill rechecked his watch. "Two hours until the party starts. We'll slip in during the chaos, grab the gifts, and be gone before anyone knows we were even there." He traced the curved line of a goody bag, his thin lips twisted into a smirk. "Can hardly wait to see their little faces light up when the presents start disappearing." Molly's eyes gleamed with mischief. "You're such a softie, Bill. That's not the reason we're doing this – we're doing it for the thrill, the challenge. We're robbers, for crying out loud!" Bill snorted. "True, but you have to admit, it's going to be satisfying to steal from the one group of people who still honestly believe in Santa Claus." "They won't know what hit them," Molly cackled, the sound jarring against the still night air. She plucked the invitations from the table and slipped them into a discarded pizza box – their makeshift hideout throughout the planning stages. From the other room, their accomplices, two slightly shady-looking clowns, emitted an array of honks and whistles, testing their act for the big day. A cacophony of laughter erupted from next door, signalling the start of the pre-party activities. Molly grinned, rubbing her hands together. "Onward, to the greatest heist of our lives!" she yelped, bursting into laughter along with her partner in crime. Bill chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a dangerous woman, Molly." The night air grew heavy with excitement as the pair slipped into the shadows, eager to begin their audacious and comically ill-advised venture.